


Hands

by BarefootWanderer



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Brothers, FtM!Mako, Gen, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarefootWanderer/pseuds/BarefootWanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I wrote this right after Book 1 happened and then posted it somewhere to be lost to the bowels of the internet.  If it looks familiar, that might be why.</p><p>Also note: I am not trans, so if this came off as cliche, insensitive, or inaccurate, please, please, please let me know so I can correct it.  I wrote this to fill a prompt and because it just sort of happened and my brain wasn't going to let me sleep until I put it somewhere not in my skull.</p></blockquote>





	Hands

Pema caught up to Mako as he was walking toward the dock. “Someone found this under your mattress. Does it belong to you?” she asked, holding out a hand-sized booklet.

Mako hesitated, then reached out and took it from her. “Yes. Thank you.” He turned away hurriedly, reluctant to speak, worried about the turn the conversation could take. If she had opened it-

“I thought I recognized Bolin. It was the eyes.” Mako stopped in his tracks and sighed, letting the booklet fall open as Pema continued. “Are those your parents?”

“Yes,” said Mako tightly. The booklet held a portrait- small, simple, but the best his family had been able to afford. It showed his parents, proud as could be, sitting behind a toddler with bright green eyes and an intense-looking little girl, her eyes an unusual shade of gold.

Pema saw Mako stiffen as the booklet fell open to reveal the portrait. She moved forward and gently put her hand on his shoulder. “Who’s the little girl?”

The firebender sagged, took a deep breath, and said “I am.”

Pema gently took the picture from him and studied it for a moment before saying “So you are. It’s a lovely portrait of all of you. It would have been a shame if you had lost it.”

That was it. No shock, no disgust, none of the laughter or confusion that he had become accustomed to. They were at the top of the stairs down to the docks, and Mako sat heavily on the top one. Pema joined him.

“You really didn’t know?” he asked her.

“No. How would I?”

“I always thought my hands gave me away,” he sighed, stretching them out in front of him. They were long and delicate, and to Mako’s eyes, excessively feminine. He envied his brother’s broad, square hands and heavier fingers. He envied much of his brother’s frame, just as during childhood he had envied his brother’s toy soldiers and short hair- but unlike playthings or styles, Bolin’s broader, more muscular build was something he could never hope to achieve. “They’re a woman’s hands.”

“They’re your hands,” Pema corrected gently.

“Exactly.” Mako knew before he spoke that there was no way for that word not to come out harsh, hostile, so he didn’t bother trying to make it otherwise. Part of him was angry at himself for being so short with Pema, who had never been anything but kind to him, and part of him thought that she deserved it, sticking her nose into other’s business.  
He was surprised, then, when she took one of his hands in her own. He glanced quickly at her face, but she was studying his hand- thoughtful, honest, not a hint of mocking or spite there. Her fingers moved gently along his palm, wrist, thumb, exploring and, he realized, testing. The subtle pressure was somehow comforting. To find someone studying the part of himself he’d always hated most without scorn or judgment was startling, but pleasant.

“They’re strong hands,” she murmured. “Stronger than they look.” She turned it over to study the back. For once, he was not wearing his signature gloves. She traced the scar that cut across from his ring finger to his thumb, a reminder of a fight he had won long ago. He had been defending Bolin from a gang of child-stealers. “They’ve been through a lot,” she continued as her fingers traced the calluses on his palms. “And served you well.” She brushed a speck of soot from his nail.

Mako turned his attention back to the picture in his lap. “Bo doesn’t know I have it,” he said quietly. “I can’t bring myself to- and I’m not even sure he remembers their faces.” He buried his head in his hands “What kind of person keeps the only picture of his parents from his own brother?” he demanded. “It’s not his fault I can’t bear to look at myself- at her.”

“Bolin knows?”

Mako nodded shakily. “Of course. He remembers having parents. And a sister. But… we don’t talk about it. It’s… not normal. I’m not normal. And Bo had to grow up with a freak for an older brother.”

“You aren’t a freak, Mako-” Pema began, but Mako continued.

“He had it hard enough as it was. The last thing he needed was me… upending things even more. What if I scarred him?”

Pema looked toward the dock where Bolin was chasing Meelo, who had somehow managed to capture Pabu. “He doesn’t look scarred to me,” she answered.

“But what if it wasn’t enough? What if someday he decides I wasn’t good enough- not enough of a man, or a brother, or a parent because I was too busy dealing with my own problems to take care of him when he needed it? What then?”

Pema shook her head, laughing slightly. “Don’t be silly. You did fine.”

Mako looked at her in something close to shock. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.

“You’re so worried that you did something terribly wrong,” she said. “That you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

“Oh?”

“Look at him. He’s fine. And you couldn’t possibly worry so much if you didn’t care-”

“Of course I care!” Mako’s outburst was as sudden and as shocking as the fire he controlled. His voice dropped suddenly and he looked at his feet. “What if that’s not enough?”

“Of course it’s enough,” responded Pema in a tone that told him he was being silly. “You kept him safe,” she said gently. “You kept him happy. You kept him whole. Plenty of people with a home and two parents don’t even have that, and you gave it to him all on your own. The two of you were alone in the world, and you managed to give him a childhood. I don’t think any brother could ask for more.”

When Mako didn’t respond, she continued. “He looks up to you, you know.” The firebender raised his head cautiously. “I can see it when he looks at you. He’s proud of his big brother. Proud to call you family. Do you need any more than that?”

“No,” Mako said quietly. “I guess I don’t.”

“You’ve done so much for him, and I know he’s grateful. Just trust that he sees your worth even when you can’t. Now go or you’ll miss the ferry.”

Mako stood. “Thank you,” he said awkwardly. “That- it helped a lot. Really. Just, please don’t-”.

“Of course not,” she responded with a calm smile. “You can tell them, or not, in your own time.”

Mako nodded once and walked down the path toward the ferry.  
* * *  
The two brothers sat on a bench, looking at the portrait Mako held. “I remember this,” said Bolin. “They had to fight for hours to get you to put on that dress. You were miserable.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Dunno. It’s a nice dress.” 

Mako punched his brother.

“I forgot how pretty Mom was,” said Bolin quietly. “You’ve even got her hands.”

The firebender stretched his hands in front of him. “Yeah. I guess I do. Bo?” he said suddenly, and turned to face his brother. “I want you to have that.”

“Mako, I-”

“Keep it,” said Mako firmly. “You deserve to remember them.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this right after Book 1 happened and then posted it somewhere to be lost to the bowels of the internet. If it looks familiar, that might be why.
> 
> Also note: I am not trans, so if this came off as cliche, insensitive, or inaccurate, please, please, please let me know so I can correct it. I wrote this to fill a prompt and because it just sort of happened and my brain wasn't going to let me sleep until I put it somewhere not in my skull.


End file.
